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Elegy for the Living
- Southern Illinois University Press
- Chapter
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Elegy for the Living There are no words in the slow language of grief, only hollow syllables in this long silence. We blink and breathe. We carry around our sadness like suitcases full of damp clothes. All the latches have rusted shut. The hinges ache and creak with what we do not say. But what can we say about loss? Absence has its own life. We listen when it speaks. ...